


love is using your first name in the poems that I wrote

by LokiTheWolf19



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Caring Jack Dalton (MacGyver TV 2016), Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Jack Dalton Loves Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016), M/M, Protective Jack Dalton (MacGyver 2016), Sick Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016), Sick Character, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:20:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24001222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LokiTheWolf19/pseuds/LokiTheWolf19
Summary: Mac is sick, Jack looks after himakaI got emo writing my bigger WiP so uhh I wrote some fluff. Title from To See You Alive by Flatsound
Relationships: Jack Dalton & Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016), Jack Dalton/Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 70





	love is using your first name in the poems that I wrote

Jack slowly came to, nestled in Mac's soft comforter, the blond boy still soundly sleeping, face smushed endearingly against Jack's bare back. Jack let his eyelids crack open, revealing their homely bedroom, where everything was warm and colours were soft and everything seemed just a little out of focus. Jack breathed a deep sigh, letting contentment and peace overcome him. Jack noticed the heat radiating off his partner was beginning to get uncomfortable. Mac had always run hot, keeping Jack warm on the winter nights where even the air you breathe burns your lungs, but this was intense.

Concerned, Jack flipped over, trying not to disturb Mac, to see him shivering, the unmistakable flush of a fever on his features. Jack frowned and pressed his hand to Mac's forehead, which only confirmed his suspicions. Mac was a fairly deep sleeper, but Jack had jostled him enough to rouse him and ice blue eyes cracked open to meet his own.

"Morning sweetheart," Jack drawled, stroking his forehead, "You feelin' ok?"

Mac was never one to admit he wasn't ok, but Jack found if it was just the two of them, he'd be more honest. The blond hummed, voice rough with sleep, "I feel like absolute ass, actually," he quipped, making to rise from the bed, but not protesting when Jack placed a firm but gentle hand on his chest.

"Woah there. You're running a bit of a fever, hoss," Jack explained, "reckon it's probably for the best if you stay in bed this mornin'."

Mac grumbled wordlessly under his breath, but did as he was told, sinking under the covers, much to Jack's satisfaction. He didn't fancy the thought of letting a sickly Mac loose on their home, especially not on the various innocent electrical appliances that were present in their kitchen, that Mac would no doubt find an excuse to take apart, either out of sheer boredom or feverish delusion.

Jack eventually dragged himself out of bed and busied himself with odd jobs he'd have no chance of getting done with Mac around, until the early afternoon when Mac's feeble voice calling his name drew him to the bedroom. Angus MacGyver was a sorry sight, blankets tucked under his chin, shivering and sweating profusely, At least that meant his fever had broken and Jack couldn't help a rush of warmth at the light pout on Mac's pale face.

"You alright darlin'?" Jack leant casually against the doorframe, one hand carefully clasped around a cup of honey and lemon tea.

"Throat hurts," Mac whined, in a way that almost would have been pathetic if Jack hadn't found it so adorable. Sighing, the older man perched on the edge of the bed, Mac instantly cuddling into his side. The blond was generally the more affectionate of the two and that was only exemplified when he was ill. Jack held out the mug of tea, but swiped it away when Mac made impatient grabby-hands.

"Gotta sit up, hoss," Jack scolded gently, "or you'll burn yourself."

Mac complied without too much resistance and was soon reluctantly upright, blonde fringe stuck to his forehead. Jack reached out to brush it away and handed Mac the mug, who brought it to his lips and took a greedy sip, humming happily. Once the drink was gone and Jack was satisfied that his fever wasn't worsening, he helped a sleep-addled Mac back under the covers.

"Hungry?" Jack asked gently and was met with a largely unintelligible answer and a minute head shake from Mac, "Alright," he continued, "you get some more sleep eh?"

Mac emerged from the bedroom at around seven that evening. He'd showered and changed into a fresh set of clothes and Jack was pleased to see a little more colour in his cheeks.

"Well good mornin' sleepin' beauty," Jack teased, looking up from where he was on his tablet, on the couch, reading glasses balanced precariously on the tip of his nose. Mac huffed indignantly in response and crossed his arms across his broad chest, but quickly dissolved, giving a lopsided smile that threatened to melt Jack's insides. He reached out and patted the couch next to him and Mac curled up beside him, lying with his head on Jack's thigh. Jack realised it was raining outside, muffled to a soft drumming on the roof, but it didn't matter. He tangled his fingers in Mac's still damp hair. Nothing else mattered.


End file.
